Dahling you were wonderful

by Chris Losh

For two days this week, I’ve had an idea of what it must be like to be Lady Gaga. Two consecutive awards ceremonies, bulbs flashing, cameras rolling, press-releases flying out like confetti. All that was missing was the suit made of ham.

Monday was the Louis Roederer wine writer of the Year awards – or ‘the Louis’ as they’re affectionately being called by we trendy journalists. I’ve always had a somewhat cynical view of most of these competitions – probably because I’ve never won anything at them. But I was chuffed to bits that Imbibe picked up a special Chairman’s Award at this one, with the panel citing our ‘ability to deliver exactly what our readers want’ or something.

There’s a reason for this: basically we just keep our ears open when talking to the on-trade, hear what you think is interesting, then repackage it as a feature or tasting in the magazine, pretending that we thought of it all along. Crafty eh?

But it does mean that I’m not simply being cheesy when I say that this award wasn’t just for the magazine – and certainly not just for the editor – but for all of you lot who come to our tastings, talk to our journalists and provide such helpful feedback. We know how tough the demands of the hospitality industry are; that so many of you give up such a lot of time for us is enormously appreciated. Genuinely, we couldn’t have done it without you. So thanks for that...

Tuesday saw us on the other side of the microphone, handing out our Wine List of the Year awards at Hakkasan. Again, it was fabulous to see so many of the shortlisted pubs, restaurants and hotels make it down to London – especially since only six of you could turn out winners on the night.

I felt bad that so few of you could walk away with certificates and a bottle of Cristal (dahling) at the end of the night, because in many cases there were two or three ultra-strong candidates who could have won any of the awards.

A bit like when the Spanish football team leave Fabregas on the bench, when the likes of Hakkasan, Coq d’Argent and Corrigan’s miss out, you know that the standard was exceptionally high.

What was particularly good for me was being able to spend a bit of time talking to the overall winner, Chee Hui, from the HK House in Stroud. For many people it will be a shock that a humble Chinese restaurant from a provincial town beat super-posh City-boy or Michelin-starred hang-outs. But every judge who saw his list fell in love with it.

Partly because it was incredibly well-targeted for both the food and the clientele, and partly because it was so well focused. With just 40 bins, there was no fat at all, yet there were still wines for every price, every dish and every kind of customer. It was an example of tough decision-making triumphing over big budget and reputation.

But it was also a list that was dripping with personality: funny, enthusiastic, charming, self-deprecatory at times... you actively enjoyed reading it. It didn’t just inform and help you to make a decision, it entertained you at the same time, and very few wine lists anywhere on the planet do that.

I wonder whether part of the reason for its originality is Chee’s non-traditional background. He came to wine late and didn’t really grow up surrounded by a wine culture, so he has no preconceptions, but lots of enthusiasm. His list does things differently because, frankly, he doesn’t have hundreds of years of accumulated baggage telling his subconscious that certain things simply aren’t done...

Certainly, if I had an overall observation of the wine lists that we got sent in for this competition, I’d say that most of them had too many wines, and rather too many were bloody boring. Great wines, but presented like a phone book, without a hint of energy, excitement or customer-friendly information. And I think a list needs to work a bit harder than that – take a few risks, inject a bit of fun or personality into presenting its wares.

We’ll be putting Chee’s list on the Imbibe website. Take a look at it and see if it gives you inspiration. Who knows, next year it could be you up there receiving the award – just leave the suit of ham at home!